It's Storming Again
by huggs5
Summary: Sherlock is afraid of storms and John takes his pillow he's currently hiding under. Johnlock Fluff.


**It was storming.**

Sherlock… he didn't like storms. He denied that he was afraid of them, oh yes. With a colourful flourish on language also, he denied it. John was sick of, every single time it would thunder here… Sherlock would hide in John's room. The one with the least amount of windows and the most amount of curtains. He turned on the stereo so he couldn't hear the thunder and turned on the lights so he didn't have to see the lightning. It completely escaped John how someone of such intellect could be so afraid of something so natural. He didn't doubt that Sherlock knew everything about them, like what temperature they were [60,000F 30,000C] or that in every second 100 strikes connect to the ground. He seemed not to care about the facts however when he was hiding under the pillows as the power went out.

"Sherlock, this is ridiculous," John scoffed, lifting the pillow from his head with a little bit of effort.

"Give it back!" Sherlock snapped, trying to grab it from him but was startled by a bright flash of lightning then a clap of thunder. Within a second he was clinging onto John by his waist and pulling him down onto the bed.

"Sherlock," John whistled, putting on a turtle face and when Sherlock didn't respond he tapped him on the top of the head. "Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock."

The thunder rumbled across the sky, starting low before roaring and making Sherlock clutch tighter. "Give me back my pillow," his voice was shaking the smallest amount and John noticed it in the Consulting Detectives normally calm voice.

"You really can't be serious Sherlock, you can't. You're afraid of thunder and lightning?" John tussled his hair playfully before pushing him back onto the bed.

Sherlock positioned himself on the bed so he was facing John, one arm under his head and the other lazily pulling the covers up over his waist again. "Shut up."

John chuckled and tossed the pillow at him before climbing into bed with him. "I'll be your pillow."

Sherlock was a little shocked by his statement, honestly taken aback. "I-uh uham n-" he flushed a deep red and shut his mouth. Embarrassed, he pulled the pillow up to his face and hid.

John grinned and moved in closer, his breathing almost non-existent as he pushed the pillow out of Sherlock's hands. "There's nothing to be scared of."

Sherlock let the pillow get dragged out of his hands. "You don't understand." he cast his gaze around the room, eyes falling on the curtains for longer than they should have. A flash of lightning startled him out of his daze and he scooted closer to John, his fingers threading through John's.

"I don't have to, Sherlock," he moved even closer, so their noses were touching and their eyes were connected. "You don't have to tell me either, only if you want to of course."

The corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched into a half smile. "Thank you."

John smiled back and kissed him lightly on the lips. "The storm will be over soon."

"Does that mean you'll leave?" the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them -or control the whimpering tone. He flushed again, biting his lower lip to stop himself from saying anything more.

"N-" John was cut off by a particularly loud clap of thunder that sent Sherlock flying into his arms, gripping his around the middle so hard it hurt.

"I don't care, stay here," he nuzzled into John's neck, entwining their legs together and pulling him closer.

"I will, Sherlock. Don't you worry," John placed his hand on the base of his back and rubbed his hand in small circles, making Sherlock stretch out a little. John thought it was adorable and all he wanted was Sherlock. He breathed out through his nose before disturbing Sherlock in his nuzzling and pulling his face in closer. He kissed him again, Sherlock's lips were so soft.

Sherlock pulled one hand from John's waist and found one of his hands, closing his fingers between the gaps in John's. He pressed against him harder, the kiss becoming a little more desperate at Sherlock's call as he wound his other hand through John's sandy coloured hair. He broke the kiss for a second, "I think I love you John."

"You think?"

"I'm not used to this. It's new. Shut up."


End file.
